Through Time And Space
by CaitlynEbsworthy
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is beginning to wonder if the world would be better off if he actually did die. Perhaps a mysterious woman can change his mind. Rated T for when I feel the need to cuss ect and I'm paranoid.
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own Sherlock, neither do I own Doctor Who. Currently in the middle of GCSE's, uploads WILL be slow haha! I love both shows, please enjoy. _

Snowflakes fell gracefully on the cold, dry pavement coating it in a blanket of white. They clung to lampposts like a bug to a spider's web. It was gentle and silent in its decent, finally coming to rest on whatever stood in its way. The snow began to settle, it was going to be a cold winter in London. People made no effort to stop and stare; they wanted to get home as fast as possible. There were a few that stood and let it fall on their coats, momentarily it brought them some joy to see the marvel that was bestowed upon them, the fact that there was snow and that it was beautiful. But they quickly moved on. Nobody stayed for long. Except for one man. As the sky grew dark and the lights turned on, he stayed. It was as if time was stood still and everyone that passed him seemed oblivious to his presence. His head was bowed, and he sat silently under Waterloo Bridge. The man shivered as the snow fell harder and began to settle properly. He pulled his coat around him tighter knowing it wouldn't make any difference but it was better than nothing. He wasn't homeless, he wasn't poor, and he wasn't supposed to be alive. But he was alive; newspapers are fairy tales you see. His dark eyes looked up for a moment. It had calmed a little, there were less people walking around now. He supposed he should begin to make his way back to the little flat he was living in. He needed rest; it had been weeks since he'd slept properly. But where had that got him? Where had no sleep, no rest, no proper food and endless chasing got him? Nowhere. It was at this point he wondered whether he would infact be better off dead. At least that way he wouldn't have to worry about the safety of his friends. They all thought he was dead anyway. It would make no difference if that was to become true. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply as the snow fell down to earth.

A woman was stood far enough away from the man so that he couldn't see her, but close enough so that she could see him. She was wrapped up warmly but her clothes were practical enough for her to run in. Her hair was a mass of blond and brown curls all tightly twisted together but exploding everywhere. Her eyes were a deep emerald green like cats eyes. She had been waiting long enough. The woman decided that it was time to introduce herself.

She stood in front of him and waited, not too close but close enough. He seemed to sense someone in front of him and opened his eyes. For a moment he glared at her questioningly as if waiting for her to explain something to him, when she did not, he decided to speak.

"Can I help you?" He asked bluntly.

"I owe you a favour." She smiled. The man raised an eyebrow, she had immediately become of interest to him and he was now intrigued.

"I've never met you before. How can I possibly be owed a favour from you?" Again the woman smiled.

"You'll do something to help me in the future. I'm returning the favour. You need my help regardless of whether you want it or not. Now believe me, I know a lot about you and one day, you'll know a lot about me, but for now you're going to just have to trust me." The man just stared at her for a moment.

"How do I know I can trust you?" He asked.

"You can't."

"How do I know you aren't an enemy?"

"Simple, I would have killed you by now. I don't do small talk." He was impressed.

"You aren't from around here. And you haven't been here for a very long time…" The man said more to himself than to her, "So, where have you been?". He was exhausted and if there was any trace, he could not deduce it at this time.

"Spoilers…" She offered her hand to the man.

"River Song." She said as he shook her hand.

"Sherlock Holmes." He said as he smiled for the first time in a very long time.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey! This has been uploaded super quick because I wanted to write it before I uploaded the first one. From now on, uploads WILL be slow D: I'm sorry. Anyway, I don't own either shows and all that jazz. Urmm *What else do I need to say...* OH! I've seen sometimes people do song recommendations to go with their chapter, well, I'll just say what I listened to while writing, so, for this chapter I listened to Justin Bieber's Believe acoustic album and Cody Simpson's Paradise album, *Yeah, what-ever, I have a wide range in music genera, at least I don't listen to One Direction!* Anyway, I hope you like it, I've been wanting to upload for AGES, please enjoy. _

They walked side by side like friends that had known each other for years. Except Sherlock had never seen her before in his life. River on the other hand seemed to know Sherlock as if she had known him for a very long time indeed.

"Are you travelling?" Sherlock glanced at the woman when he got the chance, she was difficult to deduce.

"Depends on what you mean." Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

"Are you alone Miss Song?" She stuck her hands in her pockets; the cold was starting to bite at her skin.

"It's Mrs Song to you…I am sometimes. Not always. I use to travel with my parents sometimes. Not any-more " She seemed to be reflecting on a past event as they carried on walking.

After a few moments of silence Sherlock continued the conversation. "What happened to them?" River chuckled; Sherlock was slightly bemused by this.

"You'd never believe me if I told you. But you will in the future." They stopped again.

"You keep saying, 'in the future', what do you mean?" River sighed.

"Sherlock. There is a lot more out there than just space, there are planets and alien civilisations. I know a man who has saved this planet so many times and he is never thanked. He's a God trying to be a human," She paused for a second and a grin crept across her face, "He's my husband." Sherlock thought about what River had said.

"I am aware of the search for life forms in space, I don't know a great deal about the research, not really my area, but I understand that there is an organisation called, Torchwood that deals with extra-terrestrial activity. My brother works for the Government…" He paused. "…Do you know about my brother?" River nodded.

"You'll tell me about it when I meet you for the first time." Sherlock took this as a reminder to remember this conversation.

"Well, I know about Torchwood. Is your husband connected to them?" River thought about what to say next.

"My husband is a man of many names and many faces." They looked at each other.

"I mean, he literally has many faces. But my husband, my Doctor, he is young but old, wise but young. His past is full of loss, but his heart is full of love. He's the best man in the universe. And he's mine." She said proudly. Sherlock had a look about him that River perceived as inquisitive.

"I want to meet him." Sherlock said almost instantly.

"You will sweetie. Just give him some time. He's a busy man."

Sherlock admired the city as they walked. He envied the people out together; friends, families, people in relationships. He wanted to see John, he wanted to go on a case, he wanted to have a domestic with John because he knew, no matter how much he'd pissed him off, he'd come home. But right now, he was with this woman, she was company, she was interesting, but she wasn't John.

"River, where are you taking me?" He knew exactly where they were going.

"Home." She said simply.

"You don't know where I live?" He almost sounded defensive. He hadn't intended too.

"You live at 221b Baker Street." Sherlock grabbed her arm to stop her from walking on.

"River, I cannot go back." She turned and smiled sadly at him.

"Sherlock, you can." He glared at her.

"River…" He pulled a hood over his head when he realised how exposed he was. "I can't." She pulled him into a doorway in the street.

"Sherlock, I am perfectly aware of the situation you are in. I know about Moriarty and I know that there is still and assassin out to kill John. But that's why I am here. I understand that you are perfectly capable of killing him alone, if he was human that is." Sherlock shook his head and backed out of the doorway.

"River, for a while there I though perhaps you were going to be interesting, but in my world, there aren't aliens and spaceships, it's not my area. I'm dealing with a crime lord's legacy and trying to destroy it. I can't play games. This is serious; I don't have time for this. I need to go." River hurried to think of something to do, something to say, to reassure him that she was here to help.

"Vatican cameos." She shouted after him. He turned around clearly surprised.

"What?" He asked.

"Vatican cameos." She repeated.

"How can you possibly..." He trailed off.

"Will you trust me?" River asked.

"I suppose I'll have to." At this point Sherlock realised that there was much more to this woman then he could have possibly imagined, she knew things that he had, up until this point, only shared with John.

"I know you Sherlock Holmes. You and John are going to do something one day and myself and the Doctor will never be able to thank you enough for it. So right now, this is us trying to repay you, except, it will never be enough." She continued walking knowing that Sherlock would follow.

It was late now. Although like New York, the city of London never sleeps. Cabs still drove on late into the night and night buses slowly made their way along Baker Street. Sherlock was alert and was constantly checking about himself and River to make sure that they weren't being followed.

"We are almost certainly being followed." And then almost on queue a gang of young men loudly made their way around the corner.

"River, they are some of Moriarty's men, I recognise them." They were pointing at River and Sherlock and yelling.

"Whoever they now work for must have them patrolling the street for anyone that looks suspicious." Sherlock growled.

"Have they seen your face yet?" River asked quickly.

"No, but if we run…"

"Oh, don't worry, I wasn't thinking about running." She took something from her pocket and threw it towards the mob. Sherlock never got a chance to see what it was. Seconds later, whatever it was detonated engulfing them in a deep red smoke. They all started coughing and spluttering until it seemed to fade away. Afterwards they all stopped and stared at each other in confusion.

"What did it do?" Sherlock asked as he watched with interest.

"It's completely confused them. It'll last for an hour. They won't know who they are, what they are doing or who anyone is. They'll be totally out of it. It'll also wipe their memory of the last five hours."

Sherlock frowned, his face deep with interest at the information. The men looked at each other and then all separated off in different directions down the street completely ignoring River and Sherlock.

"Now, I'll be just across the road if you need me." She smiled.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock knew exactly what she meant.

"It's time." River turned and ran over to the other side of the road; she then disappeared into the shadows. Sherlock turned and looked up at 221b, quickly; he picked the lock, went inside and closed the door.

Sherlock climbed the stairs he had climbed many times in the past. He thought that it would feel strange, but it didn't, it felt like routine. As he got to the top he felt his heart beat speed up and he felt a little dizzy. He was then all too quickly at the top; he looked at the number on the door, 221b, gingerly he reached out and turned the door handle. It was cold against the rising temperature of his body. John had left it open? Sherlock began to think of a reason for it and then he realised he was just staling from going inside. Carefully he pushed the door open and he made his way in. The first thing that Sherlock discovered was that the flat smelt the same. He made his way across the front room like ghost and touched various objects such as a mug of the table, an old newspaper and John's laptop. Sherlock made his way over to the window and placed his hand against the cold glass. He hoped River wasn't too cold as he realised it was snowing again. Then Sherlock turned around to look at the flat that he had been in many times before. It was difficult to make things out completely because of the dark, but Sherlock had a fare idea of where everything was with a little assistance from the moonlight shining through the clouds. Then his thoughts turned to John. It had been nearly three years since they had, had any contact with each other. Sherlock felt guilt. He never felt guilt. But he did now. And it hurt. There was a deep moaning sound, like an engine but one that Sherlock had never heard of before, it caused Sherlock to spin around, and doing so knocking off the mug that he had carefully looked at moments before. The sound disappeared off into the night and Sherlock could only watch in horror as the mug fell to the floor and shattered. The sound travelled loudly around the flat. Sherlock knelt down and tried to pick up the pieces quickly. From behind him he heard a gun reload.

"Now, whoever you are you'd better get out of my flat right now or else!" Sherlock stared at the floor. The man behind him was John. Sherlock felt dizzy again. He stood up and tried to get towards the door without being seen. It was wrong, Sherlock decided, his timing was wrong, he couldn't do this now.

"Let me see your face you coward!" John growled. Sherlock shook his head. Seconds later his hood was yanked down, John grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to face him. When he saw who it was, John dropped the gun and stepped backwards.

River had heard the TARDIS land but the Doctor had told her to stay with Sherlock at all times. She kept looking up and down the street never moving from where she was stood. She sighed assuming she'd imagined it until two arms snaked around her waist and pulled her close.

"It's awfully cold to be out here alone." She could feel him smiling.

"Good thing my husband is on his way then isn't it?" He spun her around; he was beaming with joy at the sight of her.

"Did you miss me?" He smiled.

"Not really." She teased.

"Rude." He bopped her on the nose playfully.

"Child." She shook her head and laughed.

"How's Sherlock?" She explained what had happened and then told him he was in the flat.

"Not bad." He praised.

"What do you mean, 'not bad'?!" She slapped his arm.

"Well…" He was cut off when River pulled him in for a kiss. The Doctor, who was shocked initially, seemed to enjoy the contact with his wife and held her close as they shared an intimate moment.

"Well…that was…" The Doctor stuttered as they broke away.

"Not bad?" River smirked. He laughed and gave her a hug.

"So Sherlock's in there?" She nodded.

"How long do you think they'll be?" He added.

"I haven't the slightest." River smiled as she grabbed him by his collar so that their lips were just touching.

"So let's waste some time." She whispered as their lips met once more.

"How can you be real?" John grabbed Sherlock by his coat and threw him to the floor only just missing the pieces of the mug that lay shattered.

"John, hear me out." Sherlock pleaded.

"I thought you were dead you bastard!" John threw his first punch hitting Sherlock directly in the face. It temporarily knocked him unconscious.

"Shit." John muttered as he dropped to his knees. He put his face in his hands and cried. He stayed like this for a good five minutes. Sherlock started to moan in pain and John assumed he was conscious again.

"I suppose I deserved that." Sherlock sat up and winced when he placed his hand against his battered face. John sat in front of Sherlock and stared at him.

"Explain. Now." John demanded. Sherlock nodded and did as he was asked. He explained in length about how John would have died had Sherlock not jumped off the roof. He then explained how he survived and that how he had been destroying Moriarty's web ever since. John struggled to find the words, he felt awful but he was still angry with Sherlock, which was fair enough considering he'd be mourning him for nearly three years. Instead, John moved towards Sherlock, Sherlock backed away fearing another blow to the face, instead John threw his arms around Sherlock's neck and embraced him.

"Don't you ever, _ever_, do that again! You fucking bastard." John was surprised when Sherlock in return hugged John back and whispered into his ear.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock meant it. After a few moments the pair separated.

"John. We need to go." John looked at him questionably as he whipped the tears from his cheeks.

"Now John." John made a face.

"Where? Why?" Sherlock smirked.

"I've made a friend." Sherlock stood up and made his way toward the door.

"Sherlock!" He turned around.

"What?"

"…I'll get dressed." Sherlock nodded. "I'll be five minutes." And with that John disappeared into Sherlock's old room. Sherlock frowned in confusion.

"Thought you might want this?" John came back out and threw a large black object, that Sherlock had thought was a blanket until he held the held it out in-front of him.

"My coat?" John nodded.

"I got it cleaned after the police finished with it, just encase you ever came back, just encase you hadn't died." John patted him on the shoulder as he passed him and when up to his room.

"Doctor Song." The Doctor smiled. She smiled and the Doctor pulled her into a hug.

"Oh it's been too long." He sighed.

"Well, I could stay with you for while after we finish here?" The Doctor cupped one side of her face.

"Really?" He beamed. She nodded.

"I'd like that." The Doctor caught something in the corner of his eye. He spun around from River to see what it was. Sherlock and John came out of the flat and made their way over the road to where the Doctor and River were stood.

"I assume you're the Doctor?" Sherlock offered his hand and the Doctor shook it enthusiastically.

"And John! How are you?" The Doctor then shook his hand.

"How do you know me?" John asked bemused. River stepped in, in an attempt to shed some light on the situation

"John. It's all very…"

"Timey-wimey!" The Doctor proclaimed. River raised an eyebrow.

"We haven't met in the right order you see John. The first time we met you, you already knew us, and right now, we already know you." Sherlock nodded in agreement.

"Time travel." The Doctor added.

"Sorry what? Time travel? This is too much for one night…" John scratched his head in confusion.

"Allow me to clear the air for you!" The Doctor beckoned the group to follow him down to the end of the road. At the end of Baker Street, where all was, a big blue police box stood on the pavement.

"What? Do you want help moving this?" John laughed.

"Why don't you two just go inside?" The Doctor clicked his fingers and the door unlocked. John looked to Sherlock. Three years not seeing each other and it seemed that John had snapped straight back into how things use to be. He waited for Sherlock's command and approval on the situation.

"Go ahead John." Sherlock followed John as he pushed the door open slowly and gingerly went inside. River was about to follow until the Doctor pulled her back.

"We need to be careful." River looked into his old, wise eyes.

"I know, fixed points, being careful about what I say..." She smiled.

"Please." The Doctor looked at her sadly. She nodded.

"Sweetie. Trust me." The Doctor gestured to her to go into the TARDIS, she obliged and went inside.

_Thanks again, sorry for any spelling mistakes, I honestly try my best! Please review and so forth, I'll get writing ASAP. Caitlyn._


	3. Chapter 3

_Hello! Well, as I upload this I learnt the night before that Matt will be leaving Doctor Who, Christmas 2013. Very sad to hear this but all the best to him for the future. The show is about change and therefore I am also excited to see who shall take the helm next! In regards to this, I shall be finishing this story even though Matt's leaving, however far it goes in the future it SHALL stay as the 11th Doctor._

_Music for this story was a combo of different things. Not specific. Sorry._

_I DO NOT own Doctor Who, neither do I own Sherlock. _

The TARDIS hummed with a relaxed sound to it. It seemed pleasantly surprised that it had guests. John looked to Sherlock unsure what to say or do. Sherlock himself started to question whether he was imagining things.

"Sherlock…" John stuttered.

"Mmm, it's real. I can see it too." Sherlock made his way a little deeper into the time machine. He went up to the console and brushed over it with his fingertips.

"You're alive aren't you..." He muttered. The TARDIS hummed again in response. Sherlock grinned slightly. He looked over his shoulder at John, who was now joined by River. The Doctor was stood next to him when he looked back.

"Well. What do you think?" The Doctor's grin was plastered from ear to ear.

"It's beautiful." The Doctor pulled a face.

"Wasn't expecting that." He clapped his hands together and began to run around the console at once, pressing buttons that Sherlock assumed controlled it. John was less impressed as he struggled to comprehend what the hell was going on.

"It's bigger inside!" John blurted out. River giggled and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, John. You'll get used to it." John nodded; he wasn't too sure about that.

"So! You need our help!" The Doctor beamed at Sherlock.

"Apparently so." He muttered. The Doctor glared at him.

"Moriarty was involved with a very dangerous low life criminal. His name's Nain Rouge." Sherlock thought for a moment.

"American folktale. It's a creature of trouble. Of death. It's French for, red dwarf, or, red gnome." Sherlock recalled. River and John had joined them and were listening carefully.

"Except in this case, the red dwarf bit isn't a mythical creature... He isn't easily visible until the last minute, when he kills his victims. You feel cold, really, really cold, and then…death. His red eyes are the last thing you see. As far as I know, your soul never rests if he kills you. The victims don't properly die. They just exist in a nightmare." The Doctor explained. John shivered.

"And Moriarty had connections with this man?"

"Oh, he isn't a man. He's a monster. And he's after John, Sherlock. He knows you're alive and he's going to kill you both." Sherlock frowned. The Doctor crossed his arms.

"So what do you suggest?" John asked, suddenly sparked by the dangers.

"We stop him, as soon as possible…But firstly we need to do a little research, so, first stop is the British museum." The Doctor said as he flipped a switch on the TARDIS console. John sat down on the steps as River started to bicker with the Doctor over his piloting methods.

"John…" Sherlock said as he sat down next to him.

"Where have you been? These past few years, where did you go?" John asked. Sherlock sighed, he knew John would have questions.

"I've been running. I've kept out of the light and stayed hidden in the darkness, John." He stared at the floor as he ran over the events in his head.

"Did you…did you kill?" John was unsure whether he should have asked the question or not. Sherlock took a minute to answer.

"I did what was necessary." He said finally. John took this as a yes, he didn't think any less of Sherlock for it.

"You're a good man Sherlock, I trust your decisions…I'm sure you did it with the best intentions?" John hoped he had. Sherlock looked at him and nodded.

"They were bad people. It was…." He said gravely. John stopped him, he understood.

"I believe you. Don't worry. But Sherlock, are you safe? Well, apart from this Nain Rouge.. " Sherlock nodded. John understood the conversation needed to go no further.

"What about you? Have you been, okay?" Sherlock didn't really know how to ask such a question.

"I've coped. Lestrade and Molly have been there for me." He shrugged. Sherlock could see he didn't really want to talk about it and didn't pursue the questioning any further. River came over to them and smiled.

"We've landed." She said simply as she was joined by the Doctor. Both men were slightly grateful that there conversation had been interrupted.

Outside the TARDIS was the British museum. London was slightly chilly now as the snow had settled and the winds had picked up. The group hurried over to a side door, a fire escape, and the Doctor laid down the plan.

"We'll sneak in, I'll shut off the security cameras and we'll go and read up about Mr Red Dwarf. Easy." He smiled. Sherlock exchanged a look of non-confidence with John and River.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" John asked unconvinced.

"We are sneaking in, avoiding night guards and doing some quick…borrowing…of some information." The Doctor beamed with excitement.

"Okay. Well, how do we get in? Shall we kick down the door?" John stood primed and ready to force in the door but the Doctor held up a hand in protest and produced the sonic screwdriver from his inside jacket pocket. He held it towards the door and it buzzed for a moment. The little green light at the end lit up and the door clicked open.

"What the hell is that?" Sherlock asked.

"Sonic Screwdriver. Much more convenient than kicking the door in." He put it away and River rolled her eyes. He was such a show off.

"Okay, River and I will deal with the security, you two, go and…well…steal all the information you can. It should be in containment under the exhibitions, so, in the store cupboard." The Doctor produced a map of sorts from his pocket and passed it to Sherlock, who, in turn passed it to John.

"And I presume we'll meet you back here?" Sherlock looked to River. She nodded.

"Okay, well, good-luck." The Doctor smiled. Sherlock turned to John and nodded his head forwards, the pair snuck along the huge rooms in the shadows.

River and the Doctor found the security room within minutes. There was a guard inside. River took something from her pocket and swiftly moved towards him and stabbed him in the arm with whatever it was. The man moved around in confusion before falling into a heap in the corner of the room. The Doctor glared at her for her methods but she shrugged him off and they went to work disabling the security cameras.

"There, they are hidden in the shadows." River pointed out on the monitor.

"They need to go over to that door and then down the stairs." The Doctor said glaring at the screen.

"They seem a little…touchy." He said after staring at the screen for a few minutes.

"Well. Obviously. They've not seen each other for years. John thought Sherlock was dead, he's not going to just let him back in straight away." River sighed.

"I suppose so." The Doctor shrugged. They watched as the dark figures disappeared through the doors and out of sight.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" The Doctor wondered.

"Course, they've got a map." River frowned. The Doctor shook his head.

"No, I meant, do you think _they'll_ be alright?" He said sadly.

"You _know_ they will." She smiled. The Doctor gave a half smile and nodded.

"So, this guy that's out to kill us, he's an alien. How the hell did Moriarty get into cahoots with him?" John stayed close to Sherlock as they made their way through the dark store room. They crept past massive crates filled with history from different periods in time until Sherlock located the small wooden crate they were looking for.

"God knows." He shrugged as he ripped the lid off the box showing no mercy as he did so and it shattered on the floor from the force. He was obviously angry.

"But Sherlock, seriously, how?!" Sherlock stopped and turned to look at John.

"John, I really don't know. I suppose we'll find out sooner or later, but for now, we stop this man. Then we return to normal." He turned back to the box.

"Normal…Sherlock, for the last few years, normal has not involved you. Normal has been me, alone." John was a little hurt.

"I meant before…" Sherlock once again stopped and turned around.

"I know what you meant. But let's take a moment to remember, you knew I was okay, that I was alive, I've been mourning you, I've missed you so much…Back to normal won't just happen, it will take time. You're going to have to be willing to except that." John sighed. Sherlock stared at him.

"I am sorry. I really am." Sherlock said softly before turning back to the crate and taking out its contents. John joined him by his side.

"You're going to have to prove you mean it…" John muttered. Sherlock looked at him, mournful, and then back to the contents. A book, a drawing and a letter. He then took them out and pulled the lid back on.

"We'd best get back." They began to make their way through the store room when Sherlock stopped them. There was a torch light.

"Security?" John asked quietly.

"I would say so. Come along, John. If we stay to the shadows we should be able to go unnoticed and the guard won't know the truth." Sherlock said as he moved close to the walls. John joined him.

"It's like the old days." John smiled to himself. Sherlock grinned a little too. Not long after they passed the guard and made it back outside to the Doctor and River.

"You got it! Excellent." The Doctor took the stuff from Sherlock's hands and the group hurried back to the TARDIS to read it.


	4. Chapter 4

_Hello readers! Look! I actually uploaded some! Sorry...Well, here is part 4. I will try to get chapters up faster now, I'll do my best. I hope you enjoy this one, I rather enjoyed writing it. _

_I don't own Sherlock or Doctor Who._

_Music for this chapter was, Tom Odell's, Another Love EP and Cody Simpson's, Summertime Of Our Lives._

Sherlock lent against the TARDIS console watching the Doctor read through the letter. River and John were sat on the steps leading up to the console. The Doctor glanced over at Sherlock and smiled to himself.

"Come and have a look." The Doctor said inviting Sherlock closer. Sherlock skim read the letter first and then re-read it properly. He then looked at the Doctor.

"The man in the letter describes what he saw, how he felt and what he experienced." The Doctor said taking the letter back. Like the other two items they had brought back it was old but still clearly readable.

"Here." The Doctor passed him the drawing next. The paper was tattered and had gone a yellowish colour over time. The picture itself had suffered a little of the same fate and was slightly discoloured. It was very simple and drawn in three colours, red and black oil pastels and smudges of white chalk.

"What does the letter say?" River asked as she and John joined the Doctor and Sherlock.

"The man describes the feeling of the moment before the creature gets to you. You feel cold, so, so cold and then…and then the letter ends." The Doctor passed the sheet of old paper to his wife. John was watching Sherlock; his eyes were darting all over the picture, studying every piece of it.

"And how is the creature described?" River pressed on.

"The man states in the letter that he built up a picture or an idea if you like, from what people had told him, and what he had researched and then drew what he could. Then in the letter he says that he saw it in the corner of the window before it got to him. It had red eyes, a sickening red, and its body was much the same. He describes little in the time he had before it got to him." The Doctor said with the smallest hint of excitement in his voice. Sherlock looked up to catch John watching him and John instantly looked away.

"But from what you're saying, and looking at the state and quality of the paper, this must have been a good eighty to ninety years ago?" John frowned.

"Indeed John." Sherlock was certain John was still cross with him.

"Well, for those of us that cared to read the book-"

"Yes, Doctor…" River growled.

"This letter was written in 1930." The Doctor lowered his tone and dropped the showing off after the warning from River.

"Then how did the author of the letter have time to write the book? If he was killed?" John frowned in confusion.

"No. The book was written first, when the man who wrote the letter first discovered Nain Rouge. He then later, knowing he was going to his death, wrote the letter as he couldn't get his hands on the book or the drawing at the time. The book was then found by a friend who was clearing out his house after his 'disappearance' and then along with the letter and drawing passed on to someone who was also investigating Nain Rouge. This happened again and so forth. The man who composed the letter and began the book was the only one to actually see Nain Rouge before he died, the others were too late, but if you read their extracts in the book, you'll see that they too all seemed to have the same build up to their deaths." The Doctor explained.

"And that is?" John asked.

"They were alone. Somewhere they'd not been too before. They each went there on a helpful hint from an unknown source that Nain Rouge was recently sighted there. That was when they each wrote their last extracts and then went to meet their fate." Sherlock was still examining the picture when the Doctor finished.

"May I see the book?" He asked. River fetched it and gave it to him.

"The last extract dates the 21st of July, 1989." He said flipping to the last page.

"What does it say?" River asked.

"_Here I stand, prepared to finally seek the dreaded red dwarf. This may be the final encounter he ever has. My fellow brothers that have so far all failed and perished in their mission to stop this dreaded creature will finally be avenged. I shall ensure that he is finally brought to justice and hanged for his crimes. By now, I am sure; he will finally have slaughtered his last victim. If my mission is to somehow not go as I intend it too then please, the next owner of this cherished book of a selected few, bring this devil to justice. I feel cold as the men before me did as they met their end. Today will be a different story_." Sherlock looked at his companions.

"And that's it? Nothing more after that entry?" River asked. Sherlock shook his head.

"How many are there?" She asked next.

"18." Sherlock passed her the book.

"And these deaths. The bodies were never found?" John asked the Doctor.

"No." River said flicking through the book.

"I have a question." Sherlock said suddenly.

"Go on?" The Doctor smiled.

"How did Moriarty acquire this man?" Sherlock frowned.

"That, I can't answer." The Doctor sighed.

"You knew him better than I did…" The Doctor shrugged.

"Wait, hold on, how old is this thing?!" John suddenly thought.

"Irrelevant. It's an alien that feeds off other lives; it can't die, unless it's killed." The Doctor sighed.

"And is it looking for us?" John asked next.

"Probably not, it knows where to find you. It just needs to choose the right moment to kill you." John frowned; the Doctor said that far too calmly than he should had.

"So how do we stop it?" River asked.

"We lure it, and then…I'll reason with it." The Doctor again, said far too calmly.

"Reason with it?! It murdered innocent people!" John protested.

"Everything deserves a chance." The Doctor slipped the letter and picture inside the book and closed it.

"Not this time." John growled. River nodded in agreement with him. The Doctor glared at them both.

"It's not how I work." He said calmly.

"Well, you're not working alone this time. And it deserves to be brought to justice; it needs to be stopped, permanently." John said angrily.

"All right…we stop it, for good." The Doctor sighed, he knew there was no point in arguing, they had a point, and he supposed it may be unlikely this creature would reason with anyone.

"Firstly we need to lure it." The Doctor began. There was a pause. Sherlock stopped leaning against the console and stood straight and to his full height.

"With what?" Sherlock demanded even though he already knew.

"_Well_…" The Doctor scratched the back of his head nervously.

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" The Doctor became animated and slightly nervous around Sherlock.

"I know fully well what you were going to say. I am abolishing the idea now." Sherlock's voice was a growl.

"Then what do you suggest?" The Doctor was still being careful but now had an edge to his voice. River and John had no idea what they were talking about and went to sit down again, this was a mental conversation between two highly intelligent minds.

"I'll do it." Sherlock's voice was hushed.

"It would be better if John…" The Doctor tried to tread carefully but Sherlock's face already had the answer.

"I will not put him in harm's way." Sherlock was very close to the Doctor now and even though the men were relatively the same height, the Doctor felt very small.

"All right, okay. But you realise you are putting yourself at risk here? If the two of you…" Sherlock glared at him.

"No." He snarled. The Doctor nodded.

"Okay. All right then." Sherlock walked around to the other side of the console to think. The Doctor rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. River and John continued to look through the book, reading each entry to look for clues. From this point on, things were going to get difficult.


End file.
